Unconditional
by Lady Feylene
Summary: (Thought this was posted *months* ago. Here, I mean.) True love is supposed to be uconditional. Not when it comes to Peter Pettigrew, apparently. A harsh look at the realities of love. (Slash)


****

Disclaimer: Sirius, Peter, James and Remus aren't mine Neither are any other characters mentioned.

****

Warning: Mild slash hints. Rated PG, I guess.

****

Dedication: This is the last story that will ever be dedicated to Kitten, I fear. You _are_ the love of my life, no matter where we are, or what passes in my life. I will _always_ love you.

****

Author's Note: This is written in Peter's perspective, about his situation. But it's me talking. I had to get this out, for closure I guess. This is probably the most personal story I've ever written, and it's tiny so that's gotta say something, huh? ::Nervous chuckle:: It's late and I'm tired, but I needed this. And I hope you all can find some connection with it, and maybe take a little solace in it. Remember...with a bit of help, things do get better.

****

Unconditional

To love is unconditional. It is to trust, to honor, to hold. It is not to ask questions, it is to support and to cherish. It is to forgive, without thinking, without hesitation. No matter how great a trespass or a betrayal, if you love someone, you forgive them.

But I thought that Sirius loved me. He told me he did. He told me the night he found me crying, and every night after that. When he held me, when we made love, when we woke up in the morning. And he said it so fiercely, so strongly, I knew it had to be true. He told me I meant everything to him, that I was his world. Of course I believed him! I lived for him! Everything I did, I did for him. I can't even put into words, how much I loved him.

But love alone can't sustain a person. I loved him with a passion that my feeble mind can't express, but that didn't stop my life from being a misery. I was still small, and weak, and walked upon. Sirius told me it was okay, he told me things would get better. But they didn't. They don't. Things never get better all by themselves. Why don't people understand that? Everyday it was the same. They'd torment me, tease me, beg favors of me-and I'd give in. What else could I do? It was in my nature. For years. I was their scapegoat, their cover, their quick bit of cash...and what did I ever get in return? Besides of course Sirius' love.

Not much.

I guess I just reached my breaking point. It happens to everybody. I don't even really remember what it was, a fight, or something. But I just looked at my life. I was going nowhere. Time was running out, and what did I have? Nothing tangible. Love. But since Sirius loved me, nothing mattered. If I, say, made a little mistake, he'd understand. Because he loved me. He hated when people used that, but it's just the plain truth. When you love someone, you love all of them. Their good, their bad, their mistakes. 

I made a mistake. Maybe joining Voldemort was a bad idea. But it gave me a prospect. And that was more then I had hanging about with people who took me for granted. (Sirius not being one of them) So I joined. And no, I didn't tell Sirius. I didn't know how. He was fighting what he called the Good Fight. And I was on the other side. How could I bring that too him? Even though he loved me, I was still scared. I'm always scared. Scared of what they'll think, how they'll look at me, if they'll yell or not. I hate when people yell. I always start to cry, and I can't help it. I try so hard to be brave, and strong, but I can't be. Inside I'm still small and weak, a coward. When I think about what they'll do or say, I get this feeling in my stomach, like I'm going to be sick. And I worry. I worry things to death. But I pretend not to. And James always told me I needed to grow a spine. It's not that easy! And I know when he told me that, shaking his head and looking down his nose at me, I know he didn't mean I should stand up to him. I know he thought he was my friend, but he wasn't! He used me when he needed me, and treated me cruel when he didn't. If he was bored, or needed to borrow something, he'd be all nice and chummy. Other then that he just told me I needed to stand up for myself, or that I was stupid. He didn't mean-I don't *really* think-to be mean. But he was. And Remus, who just shook his head and sighed at me. He thought I was hopeless. Only Sirius cared.

Why did I hurt him like that? I don't really know. I just hit a point where nothing mattered anymore. It tore me up inside, doing it. And afterwards. I was heartsick. That's the only word. Whenever I'd think of him, my throat would close and be ill. It hurt inside, this aching dull hole. He and Remus went on and on about how they were betrayed, and they were hurt...I hurt to, damn it! I made a mistake! It happens! That doesn't mean I don't feel about it, it doesn't hurt me! I'm not immune to emotions! But for some reason, no one cared. Sirius-who Loved me!-didn't seem to care that I hurt too. All he knew was that *he* was hurting. He was ready to kill me. Without a second thought. 

But he loved me. I know he did. I don't understand how his mind works. What I did, I did for me. I spent my life doing things for others, and just once I had to do something for me. Maybe if I hadn't panicked, if I hadn't made my decision so quickly, I would have done something smarter. But no one looks at it that way. No one tried to think why I did it. Oh, because I always hid behind those stronger then me. Yes, I did. I won't deny that. But I'm not the sort of person who can be strong on my own easily. I'm trying, I'm trying so much, but it's hard. Especially now.

Does he still love me? It hurts so much, the few times I see him. I miss him. But it seems he can't forgive me. Does this mean he doesn't-didn't!-love me? It can't. I can't explain it then. I look at the world simply. Love is unconditional. Mistakes happen. There is nothing anyone can do that can't be forgiven, in the name of love. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic, but that's what I believe with all my being. 

I hate having to let him go. It's tearing me up inside, but I have to. It looks like there's no other choice. I looked into his eyes, and they were cold and empty and aloof. It's dead. What was between us is dead, and that hurts me more then *he* could ever imagine. Why couldn't he try? Why couldn't he try to understand my side? Why I did what I did? But there was no compassion, and it looks like there won't be.

Oh well. We live and learn, I guess. And I go on. I always do. I move on, from stage to stage, chapter to chapter. What else can I do, really? I'll leave Voldemort in time. I'll find something else, something better. And maybe, just maybe, while I'm looking for something better, I'll find myself.

And in the end, that's all that really matters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
